The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
Windflower didn’t spend as much time studying the snowpony as she’d spent with the snowman. If she’d seen snowponies before, it might not have had as much interest for her. Or maybe she didn’t want to be outside today.
I lost sight of her as she went up to the attic, so I left the kitchen and went to the living room. We still had more of Stranger on a Train to get through.
She did her usual little pause in the hallway before entering the room. This time she had her stuffed pony with her, held in her mouth like a kitten.
Milfoil usually was a lot better at picking up what Windflower wanted, but this time even I could figure it out. The book was on the coffee table, and she just tapped it with her hoof before gliding up to the couch and taking the spot next to me. She dropped her pony right next to my leg and put her head down on it.
I really, really wanted to see if I could pet her, but I was terrified of scaring her.
Or scaring myself.
So I just opened the book and began reading.
•••••
She fell asleep before I finished the chapter. She was almost touching my leg, or maybe she was and I just couldn’t feel it. Milfoil had said that Windflower was cold, and I thought I’d be able to feel if there was something cold pressing against my leg, but maybe my pants blocked it. Or maybe it had to be deliberate; maybe when she was sleeping she didn’t have her cold-touch powers.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Milfoil whispered. “She’s comfortable. Let her be.”
“But . . . I want to.”
“The day she comes into the living room without hesitating, that’s the day that she trusts you’re not a monster.”
“It’s so hard sometimes. Thinking of her like a little girl—but she’s not.”
“We’re just watching her, doing the best we can for her, until it’s time for her to move on.” Milfoil looked down at Windflower. “We shouldn’t be talking about this right now. I don’t know what she can hear and what she can’t, and I don’t want to upset her.”
•••••
I’d seen stores in Manehattan put out Hearth’s Warming displays, and just like back on Earth, you could buy ornaments, garland, and all the other festive bits and bobs.
That apparently wasn’t how they did things in Haywards Heath—stores simply didn’t sell decorations.
I’m sure I could have bought them if I’d wanted to. There was a daily train, and ponies had also invented mail-order goods. I could have found decorations in a catalog and had them sent in plenty of time for the holiday. I hadn’t bothered, because why decorate my home for myself? What was the point?
But of course it had to be done for Windflower, so I went out with Milfoil to get supplies.
•••••
“I had half a mind to have you help me decorate my house first,” Milfoil said. “So you’d get an idea what it ought to be like. But you’ve seen Hearth’s Warming decorations before, haven’t you?”
“In store displays, and humans have Christmas, which is a lot the same.”
“It’ll be interesting to get a human perspective, I think.”
“And you’ll tell me if I’m not doing it right.”
She nodded, and I stuck my tongue out at her.
We were sitting at my kitchen table since it was the only decent working surface I had in the house. The kitchen counters were covered with more supplies—Milfoil insisted I get the simple things accomplished first and then she’d move me on to more complicated tasks.
The first order of business was making the daisy-chains. I had vague memories of doing that as a kindergartner, and it wasn’t all that complicated, just repetitive.
And, of course, slightly embarrassing, since Milfoil was better at it than I was, despite not having hands, although I started to get much quicker as I got the hang of it.
I hadn’t been thrilled by the idea of making my own decorations at first, but I quickly warmed to the task. Yes, they were more crude than what I could have bought from a store, but it was more personal this way.
“Do you normally make new decorations every year?”
“A few. Not everything, though. These will keep for years.” She glanced over at our diminishing supply of colored paper. “I think we’ve got enough daisy-chains for now. It’s time to make some garland.”
“With the rest of the paper?”
“No, with the evergreen boughs, silly.” She smiled. “When I was a filly, my sisters and I would hunt through the woods for good boughs and we’d gather it up a little bit at a time. Sanguinary—she’s my oldest sister—said that mom and dad didn’t know how to make garland, so we had to do it, but we had to do it in secret, ‘cause they thought that deer brought it. When I got older I realized that that was dumb. Of course our parents knew we were the ones making it, and of course they knew how.”
Garlands weren’t all that hard to make. There were lots of different evergreen tips and it was a matter of overlaying them and tying them together, and she had florist’s wire for that. Cut to length, and none of it was straight, suggesting that this wasn’t the first garland to be made with that wire.
•••••
We spent the whole afternoon making decorations, and I had to admit I was really feeling the holiday spirit. We were both going to be tired tomorrow, since we’d skipped our usual afternoon nap, but that didn’t matter.
I started a fire, and we just had sandwiches and salads for dinner, then Milfoil filled up my watering can and said that while we waited for Windflower, she was going to check on the flowers.
It was always fascinating to watch her working with the plants. She was as thorough as a nurse with a patient, touching the plants with her hooves and her nose, and even talking to it in a language I didn’t know. She’d put her snout right in the dirt as well, checking the moisture or something. Maybe she could smell if it had the right amount of nitrogen or phosphorous or whatever it was that plants ate.
I was so busy watching her work, I didn’t notice when Windflower came downstairs. All of a sudden, I felt something cold brush up against me and jerked away, which in turn scared her.
Rather than flee back upstairs, she rushed across the room to Milfoil, who made a bit of a show of yelling at me for being mean to Windflower.
At least she didn’t smack me.
Once all that got settled, we went into the kitchen, where the Hearth’s Warming decorations were laid out. “We thought we’d let you decide where they should go,” Milfoil explained.
Windflower studied the decorations and then went back to assess the living room.
It took her a few trips back and forth before she was ready. Without thinking, she tried to pick up the daisy-chain.
Her ears dropped, but Milfoil was ready. “We can hang it all up, but you have to tell us where it should go.”
She wasn’t ready to give up just yet, and tried grabbing it somewhere else, and then with her mouth, only to fail every time. Finally, she admitted defeat and backed off.
I gathered up the bundle of paper rings and waited for her to lead me into the living room. And waited—even I could tell that she was frustrated and agitated; she went over to one of the strings of garland and tried to pick that up, but couldn’t.
She floated up on top of the counter and opened the cupboard door and then slammed it shut again, as if to demonstrate that she could at least interact with parts of the house, then tried for the garland instead.
When she failed to lift it, she instead went through the kitchen window and into the backyard.
“She’s not dealing with this well,” I muttered.
“You just keep holding that daisy-chain. And let me do all the talking, unless she ask you a question directly.”
“Fine.”
A minute later, something thumped against the window. Both Milfoil and I looked over, and then she shook her head. “The poor thing.”
Milfoil opened the window, and Windflower came in triumphantly with a dead flower from the garden, still trailing a bit of dirt from its roots.
She took it into the living room and set it proudly on the mantle, where it did not look festive and in fact did nothing to improve the room’s decor.
I kept a fake smile plastered on my face anyway. So long as she didn’t bring the whole garden in, I wasn’t going to try and stop her.
I don’t know if she was aware of our disappointment in how this experiment was going, or if she herself realized that a dead flower was a dumb decoration, because after she backed up a little bit to look at her handiwork, she shook her head and fled into the safety of the flowerpots, finally winding up right against the wall.
I looked over at Milfoil, and I wanted to say something about how stupid this idea had been or how it had backfired, but I couldn’t.
She pointed to the couch, and I nodded. I set the daisy-chain back on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch and Milfoil joined me, laying her head down on my lap where she could keep an eye on Windflower.
As I ran my hands through her mane and along her back, my brief anger at this misguided attempt to help Windflower feel more at home evaporated. Tomorrow we’d put this behind us, decorate the house ourselves, and that was that.
How happy to see it published right now.
Poor Windflower, she just wanted to get petted.
Awwwwwwww...
Give her a snug anyway!
So, I don't think it's been fully presented yet. Can Windflower talk? It seems like Milfoil can actually converse with her, but she hasn't made any sounds near our protagonist. At least, none that I remember.
Don't open the window, Cadance will get in.
9425805
Here is the link, the story is called Marked.
So she can interact with things that A) she interacted with in life (the cabinet door) and/or B) things that are dead. Or as an alternative to B, she can interact with things she also cared about in life (i.e. the garden flowers).
hrm... there could also be something in there about Mr. Narrator finally feeling her cold not because she finally touched him but because she finally touched him and she did care about him.
Pity Windflower never interacted with Everlasting Flowers. those thing look just the same when dried out and we used to sellotape and staple them to the decorations.
Maybe add teh stem of the one she dragged in to one of the loops so she has a Ghost Hold?
9425796
Just means that you're doing something right!
9425872 Unless it's one of those dire wolves on Furaffinity... then all sorts of unexpected and NC-17 things happen.
She couldn't touch the book or the chain of paper... interesting.
What is it about paper? She can touch wood and other dead plants, but not paper. Strange.
9425789
Does she? Or is that just what the protagonist (and the reading audience) think?
9425793
He really should. Although that might scare her. And him.
She cannot talk. She can express herself with gestures, but she can’t talk.
9425797
They’re just the linked-together paper chains--calling them daisy chains might be a regionalism. Although one definition of daisy chain is “similar objects linked together.”
9425800
With her bow and arrow of lurv.
9425822
Thank you!
9425871
Mostly A.
I’m not sure I entirely see what you’re thinking here.
9425886
That might actually work, if anybody thought of it.
9425887
I like to think that I am, anyway.
9425888
Yeah, that’s probably true, however, that crosses a line for me.
9425907
Yes.
Don’t forget, she also couldn’t touch the garland, and that was made out of wood. Although I will admit that that particular sentence was not entirely clear, and I have corrected it. When it comes to plants, it’s not a question of whether it’s alive or dead plant material.
9425939
Mainly, I'm going for the angle that she's warming up to him. But, so far, she's just left him cold.
(I'll see my self out now. )
9425845
Story idea: Twilight and the Crusaders try to give everypony eternal life by preventing their cutie marks from changing.
There're so many ways for that to go wrong, of course. I could see it played as either tragedy or comedy. Or maybe they do manage it, but they need some help from Starlight Glimmer... after all, did anypony die in Our Town?
9425862
We could have gotten the one the Netherlands used for free..... *Grumbles in politic*
It typo spotted?
Well, they are making progress it seems. And the narrator was saying he had no familly to spend Heart Warming with eh?
9426061
And somehow it would have spontaneously caught fire like those submarines we got from England.
It garlands weren’t - It turned out garlands weren’t
One wonders if she even sees them as they are, or if she sees the home as it was when she was alive.
By this point, I'm kind of hoping you pull some shenanigans and some how resurrect Windflower.
Windflower is best cat-pony because cats also like to touch you unexpectedly, freaking both parties out.
9426115
*grumbles about submarines bursting into flames*
So close! But she could have manipulated the doll to kinda sorta proxy...
We'll get it next time, Captain!
Interesting that she definitely shows desire to be in this world. Hmmm...
Keep going! ;)
9425799
Yes, but who could hope to understand the inner workings of Alondro?
Poor ghostie.
Shame.
And now we know why she would always open and close the cupboards...
9426499
I move cupboard doors, therefore I am.
She touched him! Yay! Too bad they both freaked out...
I will pet that pone! Love can probably help her.
Aw she was finally brave enough to touch him.
Now I feel bad for Windflower
9426116
Evidence seems to point to the former.
9426770
Now we just need her to realize that if she floats along at about his head height, it'll look like she riding on him/he's carrying her.
9425845
Death Marks in addition to Cutie Marks? Now there's an odd idea.
Idea, a Day of the Dead type celebration for ponies, And for the story, which would be very much like Coco (with Pinkie as the protagonist of course, as yet another possible explanation for her strangeness) the ponies in the Land of the Dead have a Death Mark like a cutie mark as a part of the whole decorated skull look.
9425928
I also call them daisy chains, family from New England
9426625
Kek
9425954
9426021
That would be an interesting story, and really not a far spin off from RD trying to prevent winter and thereby prevent Tank from hibernating.
Oh, it would have to be a comedy, but it could be a tragic comedy.
As for Our Town, I think Starlight Glimmer got killed by an angry mob*. I assume it’s been her twin sister in subsequent episodes.
*Shameless self-promotion
9426061
Were they giving it away, or were you planning on taking it by force/trading maple syrup for it?
9426110
Yes--correction made; thank you!
They are indeed. And he means other than their little kind of weird family, of course.
9426116
Actually, the it wasn’t supposed to be there, and I missed it in editing.
She sees it as it is now, and notices when he does things (like build a box-fort, for example) that change it.
9426136
Unfortunately. . . .
9426138
That’s very true. Cats do do that.
I confused one yesterday by kicking the ball back to it when it batted it across the floor.
9426248
She does, but the question is why? That might be the key to unraveling the whole thing--it would make a difference if she was trying her very best to not be dead, versus her just not knowing she is.
I shall, thank you!
9426274
I have this vision of him looking at himself under a microscope and scribbling down notes.
9426294
9426499
That’s not actually why--she was looking for things in the cupboards, not trying to prove that she still exists. Although that’s an interesting theory on why she was doing it.